| [Sep. 14th, 2013|01:25 am] |
“Actually, I was going to ask you to go ahead and remove it so I can check your shoulders, too,” Genma said. “Can I get one of the clones to come hold a light for me?”
Kakashi heaved an immense, put-upon sigh as he stripped out of his shirt, leaving the cloth mask in place. The Sharingan stayed closed, but his open eye glared a challenge at Katsuko, daring her to comment.
She gave him a slow, deliberate once over, then said somberly, “Eight out of ten.”
Ryouma snorted with laughter.
“Eight?” Kakashi said icily.
“Almost a nine,” Katsuko said. “If it wasn’t for, well...” Her hands waved vaguely in the air in a gesture that could have meant anything from the wildness of Kakashi’s hair to the leanness of his physique to the color and cut of his scars.
There were a lot of scars, on a body that was almost a mirror to Genma’s own in size and shape, though a little less filled out—still rangey with the end of his teenage growth.
“Ueno,” Genma said when Raidou didn’t immediately intervene. A glance showed the captain looking more amused than anything else.
Katsuko shrugged and wandered over to the other side of the fire, satisfied with her handiwork, no doubt.
“Light,” Genma said. One of the clones came and cast a small cold-fire jutsu, casting a soft oval of light over Kakashi’s pale skin. “Don’t let her get to you,” Genma said quietly. He studied the space between scars for more signs of chafing. “Does it hurt anywhere besides under your arms?”
“No,” Kakashi said curtly. He twisted to show Genma an irritated scowl. “She’s not getting to me.”
“Good,” Genma said. Could have fooled me. “Raise your left arm. Sorry, this is going to sting.” A cotton pad saturated with alcohol served to wipe away any grime; Kakashi hissed a breath, but didn’t flinch. Genma cast a shallow-depth healing jutsu to regrow skin that had been abraded away by the armor, then smeared some anti-chafe cream over the place the wound had been before he did the other side.
“That’s that,” he said when he was done. “Put some more of this cream on before you get dressed in the morning. How are your feet?”
Kakashi gave him the same silent look of judgment he met every order with, then bent down and started undoing his boots.
“Sit. Let them air while I see about Tousaki’s,” Genma told him, not wanting to bathe in scorn and stink at the same time.
Ryouma’s feet looked like agony. The tops of his small toes were blistered, the balls of his feet swollen and red, and the backs of his heels were raw and bleeding—the right far worse than the left. “How have you not been limping? You’re not ticklish, are you?” Genma asked. “I don’t want to get kicked in the face when I start working on these.”
“Not much of a ninja if I can't hide pain,” Ryouma said, prodding gingerly at one of the blisters. “An' I didn't want to hold us up. They’ll toughen up.” His gaze slid towards Raidou, and his cheeks colored faintly—guilt over the rule-breaking, or some remnant of whatever connection they had once had? Which Genma was honor bound to have forgotten.
“Or you could wear your socks inside out so the toe seams don’t rub. And rub a little chafe stick on your heels after I fix the skin.” He gave Ryouma the same warning about the sting of the alcohol before he applied it.
“Chafe stick?” Ryouma asked through gritted teeth. He hissed a few quick breaths as the sting of the alcohol subsided.
“It’s like the anti-chafing cream I gave Hatake, but in a stick form. Looks like a deodorant, kind of. I’ve got some in my field kit I’ll give you for now. You can req it from the quartermaster when we get back.” He set to work applying healing chakra to Ryouma’s left foot first, then went to work on the more abraded right one. “You have any scoliosis or anything?” he asked. “It looks like you’re coming down harder on your right foot.”
Ryouma hesitated, looking at Genma with sharp, unreadable eyes. “Bad left knee. Broke it when I was a kid. It doesn't hold me back in a fight, but it stiffens up sometimes.” |
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